On July 14th, 1999, you made me complete. A nurse slipped you into my arms (all four pounds, fourteen ounces of sticky skin and soft bone), and I looked down at your tiny face and knew you for my own. These trembling hands were cradling the first great-granddaughter; the first niece; the first sister of […]
parenting
A New Beginning
For the June meeting of our writing group, the 10-minute writing prompt was this: A new beginning… A couple of members wrote about the fact that the word “beginning” implies “new” and therefore the prompt was somewhat problematic — and, that’s what happens when you get six smart/snarky women together in the same room with […]
More Flagrante, Less Delicto
Like many of you fine people, I appreciate a good dose of irony. In literature. In life. In Alanis Morissette lyrics. (Hey. Let’s not get nit-picky.) Still, there’s something a little bit ironic I can’t support when it comes to parenting. And that irony is this: The very act responsible for creating a baby becomes […]
What Happens in Writing Group Stays in Writing Group Except When it Doesn’t
*Below is my response to a ten-minute writing exercise from our February meeting. The prompt: Describe “That Moment.” My friend Charlene shared hers first. She inspired me to share mine, too. — We were at brunch, just the three of us, a special treat, for sure. I probably had an omelet with a bagel and cream […]
A Hill to Live On
My home sits near the top of a hill. A big hill. Half a mile up, and pretty steep. We moved here in 2001 after I stumbled upon the house on Mother’s Day. Our kids were not quite two and four, and I’d been getting them ready for brunch with my parents. When Bill noticed […]
Ready or Not: When You’re Facing the Empty Nest
My kids leave for college in one week. Both of my kids. All of my kids. Next Tuesday they’ll drive 13ish hours to Eugene, Oregon in Jack’s car. Bill and I are flying up Wednesday to settle Karly into her dorm and Jack into his apartment. Two days later, Bill and I will board the […]
Mother Knows Best
In my earliest memories, she wears a long blue robe and smells like coffee. My dad offers goodbye kisses to her, my little sister and me. Then he goes to work. He’s a high school Spanish teacher. My mother’s work is us. She is young, in her early twenties, ironing clothes in our den. Love, […]
Since You’ve Been Gone
I mean, you’re not that far from us. You’re in Oregon. Our states touch. We’re one plane ride away. (If we fly direct to Portland then drive to Eugene. Otherwise it’s two plane rides with a connection in San Francisco. Sometimes one of the planes has a propeller.) So what I’m saying is, you’re […]
The Graduate
My insides are humming. The low-grade buzz of bewilderment mixed with nerves and how did we get here? In my head, a gaping space. Hollowness. I don’t remember. So I freeze like a statue in the kitchen while the bread toasts. Memories present themselves for inspection. Slowly at first. Then, all at once, these details […]
To My Daughter on her Birthday
On July 14th, 1999, you made me complete. A nurse slipped you into my arms (all four pounds, fourteen ounces of sticky skin and soft bone), and I looked down at your tiny face and knew you for my own. These shaking hands cradled the first great-granddaughter; the first niece; the first sister of a […]